Cairn
by YLee Franklin
Summary: Crossover: Buffy X-Men. Buffy has discovered a distant cousin, who invites her to visit. His name? Scott Summers. Prophetic dreams. Two Summers in one place. TROUBLE!
1. Chapter 1 Family

CAIRN

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DISCLAIMER: The characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer are the property of Joss Wheaton and Mutant Enemy and the characters of the X-Men are the property of Marvel Comics. They are used here without their creators' knowledge or consent and only for enjoyment. All other characters and the plot belong to the author.

Authors note: This story is set the summer after Season 3 for Buffy. The placement in the X-Men storyline is harder as I have not read these comics in the last few years, but it is before Cyclops is taken over by Apocalypse. Please ask before archiving. Constructive criticism is welcomed. 

_____________________________

The sunlight rippled in air of Buffy's bedroom as the two lounged around the room. Buffy's arms dangled over the edge of the bed and Willow leaned against a pile of pillows stacked against Buffy's dresser as the two gossiped their way through the beautiful Saturday afternoon. At least, Buffy had been trying to gossip. Willow had absent-mindedly shredded three tissues, the fringe on one of Buffy's pillows (Not her favourite one, so it was no big), and was currently pulling threads from the hem of her skirt as she stared at the bed. Not at Buffy. At the bed. 

Willow had been fretting about something since she arrived and Buffy was getting a bit annoyed. This was one of her few non-fight, non-homework, non-worry moments, and she wanted to spend it with her best friend, not just her friend's body while her mind went bye-bye. The two had so little time they spent together just hanging out anymore and Will was just wasting it by just sitting there! They could be wasting it be giggling about Oz, Angel, that new cute guy that had transferred in (by the way, SO the wrong time to come here, buddy), how funny Mrs. Maison had looked with the back of her skirt tucked into her panties, or a million different things. 

Well, Buffy never claimed that she had any patience.

"Will. Will. Wiillloww. Are you in there?"

The redhead blinked.

"Huh?"

"Give, Willow. What's up?"

"What? What are you...?" Catching the look aimed at her stopped her before she could get started in her deny-dither, a Willow speciality. Somehow, Buffy had guessed.

She sighed and took a breath. There was really no reason to think that Buffy would be mad. But everything had been going so smoothly lately and, as soon as she had thought that this morning, she had had a bad feeling. Not a wiggins. Just a bit of superstition chill. It had followed her for the rest of the day.

"Well, you know that assignment we had awhile back? I decided to do some extra research and --"

Buffy interrupted, amusement bubbling on her face. "Extra research? You? What a surprise. But, Will? Not the faintest clue of what you are talking about. We've had a lot of assignments. I'm not a mind reader." She paused for a second's thought, and added, "Not anymore."

"Oh. Oh, Oh!" Enthusiasm radiated from Willow as she leaned forward in her eagerness, original topic forgotten for the moment. "I was thinking about that and I think Giles and I can modify this spell to prevent people from reading our minds. Well, not PEOPLE, obviously. But, DEMONS, yes. That way, if we come against that type of demon again, they won't be able to see what we're gonna do and --"

A giggle stopped her. Actually seeing Buffy, instead of just looking at her, she noticed the wide grin, thought back on what she had said and grimaced. "I'm babbling. I really am trying to stop doing that." And she was. Somehow, she didn't think babbling was appropriate for university and that wasn't all that far in the future.

Buffy had been watching her friend unconsciously using the 'go-off-on-a-tangent' move, another Willow speciality. Very effective, usually. And funny. "You're also trying to change the subject. The spell sounds like a good idea, Willow, and I think you should tell Giles about it - ON MONDAY - but I want to know what assignment you're talking about."

"The research project." 

At Buffy's blank look, Willow tried jogging Buffy's memory. 

"Prep for research in College? For English? Geneology? The family tree thing?"

"Ohhh, yeah. Sorry, sorta blocked that out of my memory. It felt like I was in Grade 4 again. What a stupid assignment. You were all freaked about my dad's side of the family."

"Buffy, there was only your dad. Nobody else. At ALL. It felt like someone had wiped out your family from all the records. Or just wiped out your family. It was creepy. Ssssooo," Willow was concentrating on the bed again and picking apart another pillow fringe, "I started looking into your family history. I kinda thought something had happened, like the Witness Protection program or something."

Buffy had started out by gaping, but ended up interrupting with laughter. "T-that is s-s-soo f-funny." Suddenly, she stopped, a horrified look sweeping across her face. "It is funny, right? Not true funny, right? God, my life is freaky enough without something like THAT getting into the mix."

Willow hurried to assure her friend on that count. "No, no! Nothing like that! No Witness Protection, or anything criminal, or anything like that." She took a breath. "But I did discover something we missed the first time. Your dad had an older cousin that he hardly ever saw. Remember? The pilot who crashed his plane with his family on board?" 

Buffy grimaced and nodded, remembering the picture of the family that had appeared in the newspaper. They had looked so happy and the boys had been so young...

Willow plunged on at Buffy's nod, taking heart in her non-anger. She had figured that, if anything, Buffy would be most likely to be angry about her poking around in her family history. And there HAD been the chance for other trouble, if it HAD been the Witness Protection Program, or something like it. But it was just a family where way too many people died way too young. 

Willow tried not to think that, with Buffy's destiny as a Slayer, she would probably fit into the 'way too young' category, someday. Maybe even by the end of the year, when the Mayor did whatever he was gonna do. She tried not to think about it, and to hide all the accounts she came across of other Slayer's ages when they died. Self-fulfilling prophecy was something all the Scobbies were familiar with after that farce at the end of Buffy's first school year in Sunnydale.

"Well, turns out the papers were wrong. About the boys, anyway. Apparently, their mom put them into the only parachute not on fire or something and shoved them out. But the 'chute caught on fire while they were in the air and they landed hard. The oldest was in a coma for a long time and the younger one was adopted out. I didn't quite follow what happened, but somehow there was a mix-up, I think an on-purpose one - maybe so the younger would be go along with the adoption easier?- and they both thought the other one had died. I guess they found each other when they got older. The important thing is, they survived."

Willow paused to emphasize her point. "Buffy, you've got cousins. Scott and Alex Summers."

"What?!"

Willow winced in surprise as she was hit with stereo-sound, Buffy on one side and Mrs. Summers on the other. 

"Mrs. Summers! I -- It's true. I mean, I --"

Joyce Summers laughed. 

"I believe you, Willow. It's wonderful news. Isn't it, honey?", addressing the last comment to her stunned daughter, who didn't bother answering. "Hank always was a bit upset when we were married about his lack of family. His side of the church was completely empty. This is such incredible news, Buffy. You'll have to call your father tonight and let him know."

Buffy's mother came into the room, smiling as she handed the ice-cold sodas to the girls. 

By this time, Buffy had recovered enough to raise an eyebrow at her mother. 

"Mom. Do you honestly think that will even care? What with him being as 'busy' as he has been lately?"

The smile had left Joyce's face as she listened. Just as she opened her mouth to defend her daughter's father, she caught the old look in Buffy's eyes and stopped. Feeling like her legs wouldn't support her much longer, she sat on the edge of Buffy's bed.

"I always swore I wouldn't be one of those bitter women who ran down their ex's to their children."

"You never have, Mom. Didn't stop me from seeing things for myself, though. Once I got old enough." 

Joyce looked again at her daughter, and realized that she did, indeed, see things for herself. _When_, she wondered, _did my little girl grow up_?

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a very twitchy Willow and realized that the poor girl was embarrassed at being witness to the conversation.

"But, just because your father may be a bit busy at the moment, it doesn't stop you from contacting them." Grinning inside at the look on her daughter's face, she turned to Willow, and asked, "What are they doing now? Do you know where they are?"

***

Xavier's School for the Gifted

Two Weeks Later

Ororo Monro efficiently sorted the previous day's mail, as none had had time the day before. Noticing the return address, she idly wondering who would be writing Scott from California. Then, with a double take, she caught the name of the correspondent.

Scott was NOT going to wake up. He wasn't. He had been up very late last night working on some new battle tactics. It was Saturday, for Christ's sake! Everyone knew that he was not a morning person. Who would be so suicidal as to bug him at - he slit one eye open and tried to decipher the time through his strapped-on glasses and morning-blurred eyesight - GOD, at 6:30 in the morning. He whined in the back of his throat as the crazy person knocked on the door again, then sighed in relief as the nasty person slid some papers under the door and promptly went back to unconsciousness.

When Jean Grey-Summers returned from her morning jog to the small home (formerly a boathouse/storage shack for Xavier Mansion) that she shared with her husband, she didn't notice the envelope just inside the door. She was more taken with the sight of her husband spread out on the couch, still fully dressed and sleeping as soundly as the dead. 

The coffee table in front of him was covered with notebooks, printouts, disks and his laptop and she knew that he hadn't wanted to disturb her when he had finished his plotting last night. For some reason, she had never been able to sleep as easily as Scott did, something the man was very familiar with. Add to that the fact that she hadn't gone to bed very early herself, an early morning appointment with the professor and it added up to a very sweet gesture. Although, probably not very good for his neck, she thought as she noticed his position.

Softly smiling, she covered him with the blanket on the back of the couch and when to get ready for the meeting.

What with one thing or another, the envelope wasn't discovered until much later in the morning. And, after it was discovered, it and Scott were in Professor Xavier's office in less than twenty-five minutes.

***


	2. Chapter 2 Invitation

CAIRN

Author's Notes: 

1) Refer to Chapter 1. 

2) It has been pointed out to me that I stated in my Author's Notes that this story takes place in the summer after Season 3, but that the beginning of the story is before Season 3 ends. This is true. Chapter 1 is before the end of Season 3 but the rest of the of the story takes place shortly after the end of Season 3. Hopefully, I didn't confuse too many people.

***

The trees and bushes rustled in the crisp breeze as Buffy meandered through the greenery and up the hill. At the top of the hill, she stopped and took in the bright sun and the incredible view. 

The sunrise's colors rippled their reflections in the ocean and contrasted nicely with dark green of the trees. The morning dew shimmered on the grass and created a clean, fresh smell, which melded with a wind carried fragrance of some early blooming plant.

This is the way to spend your summer holidays, came the idle thought.

Suddenly, storm clouds began to cover the sun and the wind changed from crisp to cold. Sighing, she scolded herself for temping fate. Before running for her coat, she chanced a quick look around. 

Lightening blackened white stone stood in stark contrast to the colors around. Gravel surrounded the four carved sides of the cairn and crunched under Buffy's sneakers as she approached it. Cold shivers shuddered through her. Another might have thought the wind had picked up, but Buffy had long ago realized the feel of evil.

A man suddenly interrupted her view of the symbols. One part of her mind wondered how in the hell he had managed to get so close without her hearing while another part evaluated his potential. And there was definitely potential here, if in an older package. Very nice muscled body, wind-ruffled brown hair, nice features. In fact, the main drawback were the red, opaque glasses gleaming her reflected face back at her. Obviously, the guy didn't have a clue that most women liked to see the eyes of the person they were talking to. Plus, they were definitely not in style.

Then she noticed the others quickly approaching behind the man. The red-headed woman laced her arm through Cutie's arm and as they smiled at each other, Buffy reflected that he had apparently found someone who didn't mind looking at herself when with him. There was a woman with a stripe of white hair going back across her head, another cutie with, waitaminute, red eyes?, a rough and tumble man who didn't shave enough, an regal African woman with blue cat eyes and white hair - cool contacts and dye job - and a young woman about her age with long brown hair. She knew there others, could feel them, but couldn't see them. 

"Do you know who we are?"

Okay, glasses was talking. Finally! She had been starting to get creeped out, the way they just stared at her. As she opened her mouth to reply that she didn't have a clue, he continued.

"Do you know what we are?"

Okay, back to being creepy again.

The darkening clouds suddenly began to swirl behind the group and, in the light of lightening strikes, saw them **change**.

Gasping, Buffy awoke to early morning sunlight and cursed the Whatever that had thought a Slayer needed prophetic dreams. Whoever they were, they obviously had no idea that a girl needed a minimum of three hours beauty sleep.

Giles watched as the young woman paced back and forth across his apartment, her arms waving as she emphasized her frustration. Apparently, she had been plagued in recent nights with dreams that refused to allow her as much sleep as she wanted. Luckily, a Slayer tended to need less sleep than other people. 

And she wasn't the only one who might be frustrated.

"Buffy."

At her name, his student - and the person he considered to be his child of the heart - looked at him. He rubbed a thumb across his eyebrow. 

"You have been having these dreams for the last week, or more. Correct?"

At her nod, he LOOKED at her.

"WHY is this the first I have heard of them?"

And she squirmed. 

"Come on, Giles. I'm an adult now. I thought I could handle them by myself."

Taking off his glasses with a sigh, he rubbed the bridge of his nose and tried to hide his amusement. He remembered that reasoning.

"Buffy. Leaving aside the fact that I need to know that something is coming to prepare for it and ignoring that I am the person who has reference books that might shed some light on your dreams, haven't you ever noticed that your dreams don't stop until you either acknowledge them by telling someone else about them or until the event prompting it occurs?"

Then he sat back to watch the realization dawn on Buffy. It was quite amusing.

For her part, Buffy felt like someone had smacked her across the head with a board. She had always thought the damn things were only there to make her edgy.

Later that afternoon, Buffy lay on her bed and thought about the meeting with her ex-Watcher. After he had recovered from his not-very-well-hidden laughing fit, he had started grilling her about the details of the dream. 

She now knew that the one-eyed monster that Cutie turned into was a cyclops, and the red and yellow bird of fire that the red-head changed into was a phoenix. Neither her nor Giles knew what the hell to make of the whirlwind of lights that the skunk-haired woman had turned into. She had thought it turned everything it touched wild. A kind of rebel wind. And the red-eyed cutie just had dissolved. But, somehow, she knew that overwhelming feeling of a strategy being played out had been what he had turned into. She had had the weird flash of a chess game. Mr. Bristly with the battered cowboy hat had turned into some kind of animal. It had looked like a cross between a rat and a bear. And she had gotten the impression of snow. Giles was trying to figure out what it was. The black woman had been very cool. She had kept the outline of her human shape, but it had had clouds, lightening, rain, and tornados whipping around in it. Almost unnoticed amidst all of the more dramatic changes, the young woman her age had slipped down into a cat. A cat shape made up of shadows, that walked though all the chaos around her unharmed. LITERALLY through, in some cases.

She didn't know what Giles thought he would find in his books to explain all of that. None of it seemed related. Some was from mythology, some were impressions or feelings, some were animals, and some were completely unknown.

But she couldn't shake the feeling that events were starting to move quickly and wondered what would happen next.

She really hoped Giles was right and she could get some sleep now.

The door banged downstairs and her mother called her name. When she replied that she was home, she was summoned downstairs. 

When Buffy reached the bottom of the stairs and turned to the kitchen where her mother was putting away groceries, she felt the excitement in her mother's grin. 

"Oh, Buffy. You won't believe it! I got a phone call from one of your cousins while you were out . He wants to meet you."

As her mother came around the island, Buffy noticed that her eyes were sparkling. 

"You've been invited to New York!! He said you can stay in the mansion that the school consists of or with him and his wife in their home nearby. It was quite the talk we had. He's sending first-class tickets and he said that since I can't come - I can't leave at this stage of preparations of the new show - he said you can bring a friend, just so you feel safe! Oh, Buffy," and her mom took her hands, "just think. A vacation away from the Hellmouth. Nothing usually happens during the summer, so it's the perfect time. Plus, you were just saying that with everything the Mayor had been planning, most of the demons had left town so they wouldn't get eaten or killed with all the humans. I know you'll have a fantastic time. There is SO much to see in New York."

And as her mother chattered on, Buffy reflected that she hadn't been expecting this.

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End Notes: Could **Booster1** e-mail me? I have some questions about the N'Gari, and can't seem to find the information I need. Thanks!

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THANK YOU for all the reviews. It's an incredible feeling, the response I've gotten. Thanks again! I really appreciate it.


	3. Chapter 3 Timing Is Everything

CAIRN

Author's Notes: Refer to Chapter 1

**********

"You're going to NEW YORK?!?"

"Yup."

Xander had taken off on his cross-country trip the week before, Angel had left graduation night, and Cordelia had left for L.A. three days before. All the remaining Scoobies had gathered at Giles' apartment. Willow cuddled under Oz's arm on the sofa and Buffy lounged in one of the chairs. Giles paced. 

"You are so LUCKY! I can't believe it! Do you know how many interesting places there are in New York? There's the American Museum of Natural History, and the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the New York Public Library and all kinds of cool historical places and -"

"Are you sure we didn't get switched at birth? Because my mom said the exact same thing. But this school isn't in the City. It's in some little town. And, Hello?, a school? On my summer vacation? With some guy that I don't know - a TEACHER - that I have to be nice to just because we happen to be related. And --"

"Oh, come on, Buffy. You know that you'll be visiting lots of interesting places in the city. You'll have a great time."

"Well, I wouldn't have a clue where to start with all those 'interesting places'. I may have to get a tour guide." Buffy leaned back and watched her ex-Watcher pacing and muttering. It wouldn't be long before he got into the conversation, too. Well, she had a surprise for him. And for Willow.

Oz, on the other hand, only had eyes for his Willow. Buffy had always found it hard to read what Oz was thinking, but right now she could clearly see the smile shining in his eyes as he watched his girlfriend glow and bubble in her enthusiasm.

"I bet your cousin would be glad to take you. Or one of the other students. Or maybe one of the teachers."

"Yeah, but I was thinking it would be more fun with someone I know; someone who knows something about the places. How about it, Will?"

". . ."

Oz looked away from a speechless Willow and raised his eyebrows at Buffy questioningly. 

"My mom called her mom at work just before I came over. She was actually pleased with the idea. Thought Willow might take a look at the University in New York. I think she's hoping that Willow'll change her mind about going to University in Sunnydale. Mom says that Scott's wife thought it might make me feel more comfortable with going, if I had a friend coming with."

A sound quite similar to a boiling teakettle squealed from Willow's lips for a few seconds before she launched herself at Buffy.

Buffy laughed and caught her. 

Oz's lips twitched as he said, "I think she might be willing to be convinced to go."

"No. Um. I'm sorry, Buffy, Willow, but you can't go." Buffy knew Giles wouldn't be able to hold out for long. She was impressed that he hadn't said anything before this. His arms gestured in a convincing manner as he continued, "Buffy, your dreams are warning you about the future. If you are not here to meet this new threat, then a dire situation may arise. Perhaps, apocalyptic. Your responsibilities are - "

Buffy cut him off with a raised hand.

"You'll have to convince my mom, Giles. She's really looking forward to my getting away from this place, though. You know how she gets." Giles' left eye twitched as he considered the difficulty of changing Joyce's mind. Buffy had definitely inherited her stubbornness from her mother. Plus, the awkwardness of the meeting. Since Buffy had found out about their candy spell induced - um - thing, she had been amazingly proficient in arranging their schedules to ensure that he and Joyce needed to meet as seldom as possible. They were slowly getting over the uncomfortable silences, but the situation still made Giles very uneasy.

__

Timing is everything, Buffy thought as she turned to the other two, watching as Willow snuggled back under Oz's arm. 

"I never got around to telling you about the latest in my long line of 'This is my life'-induced nightmares."

"Giles told us about it before you got here. You were late and he wanted to start with the research as soon as possible, since we're gonna have a tough time finding the right books." Willow pointed at just one pile of the multitude of stacks of boxes containing the books rescued from the now non-existent school library to emphasize their problem.

"You know," Buffy went off on an apparent tangent, "it's not that I mind the weirdness of the dreams so much, it's the fact that it started out as such a nice dream. I was watching this incredible sunrise coming up over the ocean. It was quiet and peaceful and just enough of a breeze to keep you awake. There was that "new" feeling you get if you're wide awake at that time of morning, and there weren't any demons around, which is usually the only reason I'm up that early. And - "

"Huh."

__

Perfect timing, _Oz._

Willow and Giles both turned to look at Oz. His 'huh' contained the tone of someone who had just had a question answered, or realized something important. People who knew him tended to notice when he said anything with that timbre in his voice. Actually, he was so quiet, people tended to notice when he said anything.

"Sorta snuck that in there, didn't you?"

"I didn't really realize it until I was on my way over." Buffy explained with a shrug, deliberately frustrating the listeners.

Oz nodded. "It is kind of subtle."

Willow started to begin an interrogation when Giles, who had been reviewing all that he'd heard, let out a very English curse.

Willow's head jerked up in Giles direction, and Buffy decided to let Will know what had pissed off Giles. If Giles ever paused in his rant.

"Of all the STUPID - - She told me HOURS ago, and I never saw - -"

Buffy kept one eye on the pacing Giles.

"It was dawn, Will. I was watching the sun rise over the ocean, but - " Willow's eyes had widened and the words burst from her.

"East Coast."

"Exactly. Sorry, Willow. This trip is starting to look like work. It may not be that much fun. If you want, we can probably think of something to get you out of it with your mom."

"No way." Willow was wearing her 'Resolve Face'.

Oz interrupted. To Buffy, he looked calm and collected, but to Willow, he radiated worry. 

"These dreams usually happen before something big, don't they?"

A vague fear crept into Willow's mind that irritated her. And made her flush because Oz could be so sweet. Not that she needed protecting, and it didn't seem like Oz to pull that macho BS, but he was still a guy. And if he tried to forbid her to go, adorable boyfriend or no, he was going to find himself in a world of trouble.

"You aren't going to try and stop me from going, are you? I can handle myself." She hesitated at a thought. "Well, most of the time. And Buffy will be there, too. So you better not try, Oz."

Oz blinked at her sharpness and shook his head. "I'm not crazy. You'll do what you think is right. Won't try to stop you." He squeezed Willow's hand with his free hand and addressed Buffy.

"When are you going?" 

"Mom mentioned something about next week. There's still a lot to be settled. Why?"

"Just wondering how long it takes to cross the country in a van."

"Oz?"

"Won't try to stop you. But won't let you face whatever the newest Bad is alone, either. MY choice." And in his voice was the calm, rock-solid certainty that Willow had come to depend on.

She smiled.

*****

Note: Next time it's the X-Men's turn.


	4. Chapter 4 Discussing Buffy

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CAIRN

Chapter 4

Disclaimer and Authors Note: Refer to Chapter 1.

*****

Dear Scott:

I feel strange calling you 'Scott' when I don't know you, but I think it would be stranger to call you 'Mr. Summers' when you're my cousin. That's right, we're cousins! I have enclosed a letter for your brother Alex, since I couldn't find a current address for him. I also enclosed a disk that details how you and I are related, along with something else I'll go into later. 

Mainly, I wanted to let you and Alex know that you actually have relatives on the Summers' side. You were the only Summers' relatives, other than my dad, that I could find. If you are aware of any others, I would appreciate it if you would let me know.

Plus, I was hoping you could help me fill out a family medical history thing. That's why I have enclosed a self-addressed stamped envelope with a small form that I made up. Could you let me know of any genetic problems, abnormalities or diseases I should be aware of?

I really appreciate your time.

Your California Cousin,

Buffy Summers

Scott finished re-reading the crumpled page. In any other family, it would have been an amusing, but not serious, letter. But the Summers' family had a history of 'genetic abnormalities'. Anyone related to him would automatically be under scrutiny for the mutant 'X' gene. The fact that she was looking for information on genetic differences in the Summers' family rang alarms on top of alarms. 

"So, what do we know?"

Jean leaned forward. "Well, as far as we can tell, she is not an impostor. When your dad came back to Earth, Scott, and looked up the family, he only looked for those family members that he could remember. Apparently, he didn't even know the California Summers existed. But all the data on the disk she sent has been corroborated. Birth certificates, school records, etc. Unless it is a very thorough deception, I think this is for real."

Kitty coughed. "On the matter of school records - - Our straight-laced Mr. Uptight here has a juvenile delinquent for a cousin. She was kicked out of her school in L.A. The authorities believed that she burned down the school's gym, although they never proved it, and she and her mother moved to the charming little town of Sunnydale in an attempt to find a school that would take her. Things seemed quieter for the first year, except for the odd thing here and there." 

"The fire happened after a downturn in her school marks." Ororo spoke evenly, only a small accent showing that English was not her first language. "Authorities believed that she had fallen into 'bad company'. However, Buffy was fifteen when these events occurred. As we know, the emergence of mutant abilities causes great stress in adolescents. This may be the real reason for her declining grades. In addition, the fire may have been the result of a burst of mutant power, or simply the result of her own frustration with her abilities." 

"Or," Kitty replied with a grimace, "it could just be a reaction to her name. I mean, 'Buffy'? What was her mother **thinking**? It'd be enough to drive me to arson." After a look from Ororo, the chuckles stopped and the smiles were mostly hidden, even as Kitty Pryde continued.

"Well, the next major event occurred in Sunnydale when she was accused of the murder of a young woman: 'Kendra', no other name. She was also expelled at that time. It appears she was in the room with the body at the time of discovery and that the police arrested her at the urging of the principal. The guy really didn't like her. You wouldn't believe what he wrote in her records. Anyway, the charges were dropped after several other people came forward and testified that she wasn't even in the room when they were attacked. The police believe a gang broke in looking for stuff to convert to quick cash."

"What kinds of things did the principal write in her records?" Jean was curious.

"That she was a troublemaker - no reasons. That she was too athletic, if that could count as a reason. And too independent. You have to kind of read between the lines. Like - um - apparently, she went a date with one of the athletes. One who was winning meets; getting attention for the school. That sort of thing. Anyway, from the sounds of it, he tried to 'push' her into something she didn't want and she hit him to get him to stop. **She** was the one who got into trouble, not the guy."

"That's . . . But that's . . ."

"Yeah. It seems to be that kind of place." Kitty's disgust at the school principal's lack of ethics was clear.

"Then, just this past month, something happened. I haven't been able to get a clear idea from the reports, but something big happened. The most popular reason given seems to be a gas main explosion. But that kind of explosion isn't consistent with the damage produced. There were also reports for the student's parents immediately after the event that were - well - basically hysterical. But they are very emphatic that it wasn't a gas main explosion. Most have since recanted. Professor," Kitty turned to Xavier. "What did Cerebro show when you scanned for mutants in the area of Sunnydale?"

Xavier templed his hands in front of his face and, with a disturbed look, spoke. "The area of California that Sunnydale inhabits does not allow probes." Over the immediate confusion and consternation, he continued, "The area produces a type of 'static' that makes it impossible for Cerebro and myself to read anything in that area. At least, from this distance. The situation may be different, closer to the phenomena." 

As he glanced around his semi-circle of students - his children - he noticed Scott's frown. Long practice at deciphering his chosen heir's expressions allowed him to discern the distress hidden behind the frown. Attempting to reassure Scott, he stated quietly to him, "There are other places on Earth that produce the same phenomena. Sunnydale is NOT unique. It may have nothing to do with your cousin."

"Professor, Buffy is a SUMMERS. What are the chances of that?" Xavier smiled at the raised eyebrows and expression on Scott's face. If his broody child was joking about this, then it wasn't likely that he would obsess about it. 

"Perhaps, Kitty would tell us why she was the only one not surprised by this information." Xavier had noticed Kitty sitting quietly and thinking about his words as the others had exclaimed or talked. At his voice, she looked up, startled.

"I wasn't exactly **expecting** you to say that." Under the attention of the others, she uncomfortably admitted, "It wasn't exactly a surprise, either."

She sighed and continued. "I didn't want to say anything until I had more information, but Sunnydale appears to have a death rate that is really scary. Even scarier is how well hidden this fact is. There is evidence of a gang of serial killers, but no indication of any curiosity from the feds. The police are remarkably blase about the numbers and types of deaths they see. Either that or they are incredibly stupid. The only reason I was able to get any of this information is because our computers are so much more advanced than the rest of the world's." Having a mutant inventor as a friend and former X-Man, plus access to off-world technology assured that. "It seems as if what happens in Sunnydale is ignored by the rest of the world. I had hoped to have more information before I brought it up, but -- " She shrugged.

"So, basically, we have someone who has a troubled past, comes from a deadly area, and is **probably** my cousin." Scott leaned back in his chair and brought his hands up to scrub his face. "Great."

An uncomfortable silence filled the room.

"Sounds to me like a fun gal. Not something I'd think would apply to one of **your** relatives."

The group turned to the man standing in the doorway. 

"Logan. You've arrived."

"Roads ain't nice out there, Chuck. One of you guys do something to make 'Roro mad?"

"They have done nothing that has annoyed me, Logan. Besides, it is very seldom that my moods affect the weather, anymore."

He caught her eyes and lifted his hat straight up. Still keeping eye contact, he tilted the Stetson forward and water poured from the various valleys of the battered hat to splatter and pool on the floor. A corner of his mouth turned up at the snickers as he asked, "You sure? 'Cause I'd hate to think it was me you was mad at, Darlin'."

Ororo raised an amused eyebrow, entering the game. 

"I have nothing to do with the storm. Perhaps it is someone else - a higher authority - that you need worry about. Or, perhaps, it is your conscience you should worry about. Feeling a bit guilty, are you?"

The snickers turned to laughter and one or two "Ooohh"s at Ororo and Logan's play. As Logan resettled his damp hat, he tilted it an extra bit in acknowledgement of the look of gratitude Xavier gave him before he replied.

"Now, Darlin', I've been good. But if I'm in trouble with the Big Boss, I might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb. Wanna help me find something to feel real guilty about?"

"Logan!" Not expecting the last comment or the lecherous grin and waggling eyebrows, Ororo blushed, then joined the laughter that had exploded at her startlement. 

Xavier felt the release of tensions that had been building, not only through the body language of his pupils, but in the slight easing of pressure on his mental shields. Both he and Jean silently exchanged their relief as everyone resettled. Jean, with a flickering of her eyes, pointed out how the laughter had released the frown lines that had gathered on her husband's face. Xavier mentally nodded in agreement.

"Kitty." The remaining laughter died down, although most retained their smile.

"If you would continue to research the town, it would be appreciated. Buffy and her friend will arrive tomorrow and we wish to avoid as many nasty surprises as possible. There are still some things for the rest of us to do to prepare for their arrival. But first, dinner."

***

Scott stood looking out at the thunder and rain. Jean, approaching from his side, noticed the frown was back. Without even looking, he lifted his arm and she nestled against his side. When he spoke, his voice was firm and factual.

"It just . . . There are too many coincidences: a letter announcing a long-lost cousin, a mysterious town with far-too-many murders, an area Cerebro can't read. We have so many enemies that would love a chance to get someone in here where they could sabotage us from the - -"

"Scott."

He looked down into her knowing face and, looking back out at the rain, sighed. When he spoke this time, his voice was softer and the longing vibrated in it.

"I want her to be my cousin."

Jean put both arms around him.

"Her letter sounds bright, and cheerful, and . . . and alive. Going by her letter, she seems like someone I'd like to meet."

There was silence for a bit, before Scott continued. 

"I think I see family differently than others. I think, being raised in the orphanage makes me realize the value of family more than most. It is so important and you don't realize how important it is until it's gone. When I was growing up there, I would imagine a huge family waiting for me, with . . . " He took a breath. "When I got this letter, it was like - like a part of that dream . . ." His voice broke. Jean leaned into him, tightened her grip and flooded their bond with wordless support. 

They continued to watch the rain, holding on to each other.

"I -- I just really want her to be my cousin."

And echoing in the words were the dreams of the child Scott had once been.

Meanwhile, Kitty stared out at the storm from the mansion's kitchen. 

"Pum'kin? Thought you were doing your computer stuff." 

Kitty held up a mug to Logan.

"Coffee," was her explanation.

Then a giggle, and, "Pumpkin? You have called me that for years. You must be in a good mood tonight."

A slight snort was Logan's non-answer as he grabbed a mug of coffee as well, before joining her at the windows.

"You're not." At her look, he elaborated. 

"In a good mood. Despite the laugh."

She sighed. 

"I don't know. I've just got a bad feeling. Or I'm going paranoid. I might have just been staring at the death stats for Sunnydale for too long. That town is enough to give anyone the creeps. I just get the feeling something bad is going to happen."

The lightning flashed.

And upstairs in her attic, Ororo paused in her nightly routine of watering her plants to shiver.

___________

I apologize for the wait. This chapter was much harder to write. I really can not remember what was blamed for the explosion at the school, but I believe I had heard 'Gas Main Explosion' before. Hopefully, this is correct.


	5. Chapter 5 Airport Discoveries

****

CAIRN

Chapter 5

Disclaimer and Authors Note: Refer to Chapter 1.

Note: **~ ~ **indicates telepathic conversation

*****

Crowds pushed and shoved their way either to their flights, or to freedom. Buffy concentrated on gathering her 'special' cargo. Luckily, Giles had taken care of the paperwork before the journey.

"Is that it?"

"Just sign here, Ma'am, and you can be on your way."

Buffy hesitated before signing the papers, gathered her things, and left without a word to the guard. He called out a wistful 'Have a good day' to the pretty girl who had grinned at him when they had started.

Willow knew something was wrong, but waited for it.

"Will. Is there something wrong with my clothes? Do they look okay?"

"What? Uhm, no. I mean, yes. They look great."

"What about my hair? Is there something wrong with my hair?"

"Buffy! It's fine. What's up?"

"I just got 'Ma'am'ed! I'm not old enough. I don't look like a ma'am. Do I? Maybe I need a cut. Or some new -"

"BUFFY! He was probably just trying to be polite." Willow kept a straight face as she worked on convincing her distressed friend that she didn't look like a ma'am as they wove through the crowd.

Suddenly, Buffy realized Willow seemed to know where they were going.

"Um. Don't we need to find someone to direct us to where we're gonna meet our ride?"

Willow seemed puzzled. "I'm your tour guide, aren't I?"

"Yeah." It came out a bit hesitantly. She hadn't expected Willow to take her seriously. 

"So. I prepared. I looked up a layout of the airport, where we were likely coming in and where we were meeting your cousin. That kind of thing."

"You . . . looked up the airport's layout?"

Not noticing Buffy's dropped jaw, Willow continued scanning the crowd. 

"Of course. This is the area, so they should be here somewhere."

Buffy was the one who saw them first. The shock drove all thoughts of airport layouts and ma'am's completely out of her mind. Pulling Willow back behind a column, she studied them. Belatedly, she noticed the "Summers and Rosenberg" sign.

"What's wrong?" was a startled whisper in her ear.

Still concentrating, she pointed out the four people waiting for them.

"Hey, our ride. Why are we hiding from them?"

"What do you see?"

"Well, there's a tall guy with brown hair holding the sign. He must be your cousin. He's kinda cute. The woman beside him must be his wife. I still don't get why - "

"Willow. What did the guys in my dream look like?"

"What?"

"Oh."

"OH!"

"Oh no, Buffy. What are we gonna do? We can't go off with demon people."

Both of them watched the older man in the wheelchair say something to the African woman. The redhead made a comment that seemed to fluster the man holding the sign.

"They . . . don't look like demon people," ventured Willow. "Or even mean, really."

Buffy frowned in concentration.

"I'm not picking up any evil vibes from them, either. They might be a type of evil that I can't pick up, though." They watched for a little longer. The redhead poked the man in the ribs and he danced out of the way.

  
"They just don't **feel** evil. But, my dreams - "

"But you've always said your dreams were useless, because they made no sense until it was over." With Buffy's attention on her, Willow gamely tried to think of something positive. 

"Maybe - Your dreams aren't exactly straightforward or clear, are they? Maybe the dreams don't mean they turn into monsters. Oh! Oh! Maybe what they mean is that we have to **stop** them from being **turned** into monsters. Like Xander and the swim team. Although, we didn't do so well with the swim team."

Buffy thought on that. Willow shrugged. 

"Or maybe it means something totally different. I've read some dream interpretation books, but I don't think they apply to slayer dreams."

"You might be right." She kept an eye on her cousin as his wife coaxed him into a smile. "If - If I have to stop them from being turned into monsters, it's not their fault. Right? They'd be the people we're supposed to protect, not our enemies. Right?" She looked to Willow for assurance.

"Right." Willow wasn't positive about this, but she wasn't going to let Buffy down.

"So, it's a bit like being undercover. Like on TV. We just have to act normal, contact Giles to let him know what's going on, and keep a lookout for creepy or weird things." 

Both shared a **look **as they silently agreed on what usually worked best for the Sunnydale gang: winging it until they discovered what in the heck was going on.

* * * * * 

Jean and Ororo had been quite successful in distracting Scott. They had been tag-teaming him since they had left the mansion. Most recently, Jean had been teasing Scott about how "manly" he looked holding the sign and that she approved of where he had positioned it. She had then turned to Ororo to discuss something totally different, and Scott was left wondering exactly that was supposed to mean.

Xavier was very impressed with their tactics. 

Just then, a young woman jumped and waved an arm above her head as she ploughed through the crowd toward them.

Small and bouncy, was Scott's first thought. And energetic. 

"Hi! So, I bet you're my cousin Scott. Mom really liked how you talked to her on the phone. But if you're a teacher, I guess you've had some experience with talking to parents. Oh, I'm Buffy and this is Willow." 

The shy redhead gave a little wave from behind Buffy. Personally, he had been much more like Willow seemed as a teenager. He had never been as outgoing as Buffy appeared to be. And he tended to shut down when he was nervous. From the looks of it, Buffy chattered. She continued without a pause for him to answer any of her quasi-questions. He wasn't certain if he could have. He felt half-stunned by the stressed and nervous chatterbox.

"I really hope you're the right people, and - jeez, you're tall!" Buffy had stopped, looking up at him enviously. "How come I missed the tall gene?" Obviously embarrassed at the question, she said the first thing that came to mind. "Well, were you surprised to find out that you and Alex weren't the only fruits on the Summers' family tree?"

She stopped dead. Her mouth still partly open in horror, she stared straight ahead.

"Wills?"

"Humm?"

Buffy's voice trembled in quiet humiliation. "Did I just say what I thought I just said? Please," She interrupted Willow's choked affirmative, "say no, Will. Tell me I did NOT just say that."

Ororo gasped for air and turned sideways, shaking with muffled laughter.

"Oh GOD, just kill me **now**."

Buffy whirled and buried her burning face in her hands. Scott, whose jaw had dropped at Buffy's comment, whooped, first in surprise, before losing himself, with an atypical lack of self-consciousness, in laughter that bent him double. The stress he had been under had broken in what was, for him, a very unusual way.

Willow put her arms around Buffy and awkwardly patted her on the back as Buffy embedded her face and hands in Willows shoulder. Willow's face was tomato-colored as she tried to keep from laughing at her friend's plight. She failed.

Under the laughter, an embarrassed moan worked it's way out along with a groaned 'fruity', which just sent Scott off again.

Reluctantly, Buffy removed her head from her hands and Willow's shoulder to face them. Seeing that Scott was incapacitated, she addressed Jean. 

"I have a curse. It goes: 'Have open mouth, will insert foot'. I didn't mean it like it sounded. I just get nervous and then I babble."

"I understand completely. Don't worry about it. He didn't take offence. Did you, Scott?" The last was a threat that the elbow to the side made sure he noticed.

He waved the 'fruits' comment of with one hand, still sputtering with the occasional gurgle of laughter. 

"Welcome to New York, my California Cousin. I can tell you're going to liven the place up."

Buffy's cheeks flamed again.

While they packed the enormous amount of luggage into the trunk of the Rolls, Scott caught Jean's eye.

__

~ Well? What's going on? And don't tell me 'nothing'. Both you and the Professor are edgy. ~

__

~ Scott . . . ~

~ Jean, let me. ~

Scott's stomach, which had just settled from the earlier hilarity, started to sink.

__

~ Scott. Buffy and Willow do not seem to exist to our telepathic powers. ~

What?

__

~ What? ~

__

~ We are unable to read either Buffy's or Willow's minds. In fact, if I were not able to see them with my own eyes, I would say that they were not there. ~

___________________

I've had a couple of questions about what universe this is in. It's in the comic universe. Mostly. As far as them knowing about her being committed after the fire - - I haven't decided yet. I know what I want to have happen for major event and details. But some of the smaller details are still fuzzy, and probably will be until I write them. But I hope this chapter answers the question about if the Professor or Jean can read them. As far as relationships go, I think I am sticking with the established ones. And I wanted to thank everyone who answered my 'gas main explosion' question. I really appreciate it. And I REALLY appreciate all the reviews. It's amazing how much they motivate me to continue. Thanks again.


	6. Chapter 6 Robot, Clone, or ?

****

CAIRN

Chapter 6

Disclaimer and Authors Note: Refer to Chapter 1.

Note: **~ ~ **indicates telepathic conversation

*****

"What do you think happened?" 

The words were the quietest of whispers in Buffy's ear. Under cover of pulling out her luggage, Buffy answered Willow's question with a bewildered shrug. One moment things had seemed fine, the next - well, they were still fine, but uncomfortable fine.

They all tried to hide it but they were watching Buffy and Willow out of the corner of their eyes and Scott was nowhere near as comfortable with her as he had been. The change seemed to occur after they had left the airport and before they entered the car.

Now they couldn't help but wonder what kind of reception was waiting in the mansion.

And a mansion it was. When Scott had said 'small school', Buffy had had a mental picture of Sunnydale High. When he had mentioned 'mansion', she had envisioned Angel's home. Then she had tried to combine the two. The resultant image had been nothing like what was before them.

Ivy crawled up the walls of the sprawling palace. The greenery was traditionally manicured, formal and stately. It looked like a millionaire politician's home, not like a school.

"So, how come you're here in the summer, Scott? Doesn't the school close?" Now THAT, thought Buffy, would be truly horrifying. School all year round. She shuddered.

"Well, we live here. Plus, Jean and I lived here as students." He shrugged. "It's home, now."

"Yah, I've had nightmares like that."

Still a bit oversensitive from the 'fruits' comment, she tried to minimize the previous statement. "Well, you know, different strokes suit different - " Her eyes widened as a sudden image came to mind. "Not that I am thinking of any stoking and you at the same time because - eeww - my cousin, and married. And, Will, help me out here?" She was redder than she had been with her last sunburn. Willow's eyes almost popped as she shook her head. No WAY was she getting involved in that conversation.

"It's alright, Buffy. I understood what you meant."

Scott did. He really did. It might seem to them that he was a lot older, but being a teenager and the hormones that made everything a minefield were still very vivid memories for him. One of the reasons he had been so 'stoic' as a teenager had been to avoid embarrassing himself in front of a certain redhead in just this way. He had also been too shy. The horrible hormones made everything you said seem to have some sort of sexual double meaning. 

He glanced at his 'Red'. Of course, sometimes it still seemed like that.

"I'm not usually like this. With the words, I mean."

Willow very daringly confided to Scott. "She's right. Most of the time, she's worse."

There were a few snickers as Buffy mock-glared at her friend.

"See if I help you out again."

Willow smiled at Buffy, confidant in more help that she could ever want, if she needed it.

Then both stopped in amazement.

The inside was even more magnificent than the outside.

"Hey, Kitty!"

Scott called out to the young woman just stepping into the hall.

"Hi, guys."

"Buffy, Willow. This is Kitty Pryde, one of the long-time students here. Kitty, this is my cousin, Buffy Summers, and her friend, Willow Rosenberg."

Will did another little wave, while Buffy and Kitty nodded and smiled at each other. The hidden part of Buffy connected Kitty to the woman who had turned into a cat in her dream. The link between the dream shape and her name was obvious. What if the others were as obvious to them?

Willow noticed Kitty's Star of David and asked about it. While Scott brought in the remaining luggage, the two slid into a chat of how hard it was to be Jewish in a country where the culture and major holiday's were Christian.

Buffy noted that she was also rather relieved to meet Kitty. Both Ororo and Jean were beautiful, in a supermodel kind of way. It wasn't just Scott that had gotten a tall gene. Ororo was majestic and carried herself with a dignity that made you want to treat her with respect, even without knowing her. Jean was just plain gorgeous. And Buffy had been beginning to feel dwarfed. 

Not that Kitty was short, but she wasn't as tall as the others. 

Kitty did have a look to her: Character. But she didn't have the body of a model. Her hair was beautiful: thick, long and full of body. But the way she wore it didn't suit her. It was her attitude that made the difference, though. She carried herself with the air of someone who was plain and practical; like someone who had been told she was smart often - but seldom told she was pretty - and so had concentrated on her mind and mostly ignored her looks. Buffy would have bet that Kitty had been a plain child and a gangly teenager who never noticed her features had changed to fit her bones. And her clothes - - the overall focus of these clothes was practicality, but Buffy knew that she could find practical, pretty clothes that would suit her figure and coloring much better in under a half hour in a decent mall.

Plus, Kitty was nice.

Kitty had coaxed Willow past the first topic, and through a discussion on the media and advertising that focused on the Christian religion, and, finally, had stumbled upon one of the driving passions for both girls.

Buffy watched, amused, as Willow left reserved and shy in the dust and became enthusiasm-girl. In their discussion about the newest computers and - Xavier raised an eyebrow at this - personal hacking techniques, it became obvious to all the watchers that both girls had forgotten totally about their audience. Kitty picked up one of the suitcases, Willow another, and, still discussing some incomprehensible technological advancement, headed off down the hall.

Buffy looked at the other four.

"So, I take it our room is in that direction."

Earlier, Buffy and Willow had decided to share a room in the mansion, especially after they heard Scott and Jean's bedroom overlooked the living room loft style.

Buffy took her 'special' bag as Scott and Jean took the remaining three suitcases and trailed after the two technogirls.

The X-Men gathered in Xavier's study. Those who were unaware of the new mystery surrounding their guests were quickly informed. 

"So, what might be responsible for our inability to scan our guests' minds?"

"They're not alive. Robots." That gloomy prediction came from Scott. All present had known each other for years and could see how hard this had hit him.

"I don't think so, Scott. When I took the suitcase from Willow to put in the trunk, her hand was warm. And at the store, when we picked up the ice cream, Buffy bent into the freezer and I could see water vapour in her breath when she exhaled." Ororo held up a hand. "That's not to say they definitely are not robots, but it eliminates certain types. If we could get a blood sample from each, we could probably eliminate all types, including techno-organic varieties. Not that this appears to be their MO."

"You've thought on this."

A nod.

"What else have you come up with?"

"We have encountered normal humans who have a natural ability to block psi-scans. Charles?"

He thought for a moment.

"Block, yes. Make themselves invisible to telepaths, no. And I believe it strains the laws of probability to think that we should encounter two such people at once."

"Could the Sunnydale area, the 'static' you described, have affected them?" Jean spoke up, one hand unobtrusively holding tight to Scott's.

"It **is** possible, I suppose, especially for Willow, who has lived her entire life there. But Buffy only moved to the area three years ago. I find it unlikely that the area's influence could have affected her in such a relatively short period of time. Unless the change was done on purpose. Also, I do, at least, sense static from that area. The same can not be said for Buffy and Willow. No. Unless something in the Sunnydale area consciously and purposely affected them, I believe we can eliminate that possibility."

"Madelyne."

That one word from Scott dropped like a lead weight in the suddenly still room. Madelyne had been Scott's first wife, whom he had married when everyone had believed Jean was dead. She had also been Jean Grey's clone, created by a long-time enemy.

Scott took a breath.

"Remember, Professor. Madelyne also blocked all attempts to enter her mind. We never found out if it was because she was a clone, if it had to do with Jean being the donor, or if it was something Sinister did during the cloning process."

Kitty spoke for the first time.

"We can probably find out the answer to that with the same blood sample we use to eliminate 'robot' from our list." At the looks of confusion, she added, "Cellular drift. If they are clones, there should be a small amount of degradation at the cellular level."

"Can you tell that without a donor sample to compare to?"

"Me? Probably not, even with our equipment. But I bet Hank could. He can also do a DNA analysis to find out if she really is a relative of yours."

"I might even be able to help a little while we wait for that. A family sometimes shares a base scent. Not always. And she's not exactly a close relative, but it might be enough." Logan's rough voice came from a corner, where he could watch the meeting and keep an eye on all the entrances. It wasn't like he thought there was any danger, but habits of a lifetime were hard to break. "Plus, I could probably help rule out some of those 'robot' theories, too."

"And, at the same time he's checking on the DNA, Hank could look into the more likely possibility for our little mystery."

"Kitty?"

"Come, on Scott. Why did we invite them here in the first place? 'Genetic abnormalities', remember? Buffy could be a mutant, and all this could be the result of her power! Or it could even be Willow. I think that **that** is much more likely than the other guesses." Before anyone could agree or disagree, she added, fiercely, "If it's because of some phenomena, or because they're clones, or mutant, they probably know nothing about it. Or about us. Madelyne didn't. I like them and I don't think they're here to hurt any of us. I think we should be careful not to do anything that might hurt them. And I'm not talking physically here." 

"Calm, Kitten. None of us have any intention of hurting them."

"Maybe you don't intend to, but you're sure making them nervous. Try and act naturally, people! If one of them is a mutant, especially one who can shield against the Professor, do we really want to make them uncomfortable? Make them suspicious? We want them to trust us. Plus, I really like Willow. I don't want to make her an enemy just because we're paranoid."

"Kitty . . ."

"Paranoid for a reason is still paranoid, Scott."

"Kid's got real good instincts, Cyke. Might want to listen to her. Let's use some of those fancy gizmos to keep an eye on them, but, otherwise, act like you planned. We have a couple a teenagers who're gonna want to see the sights. Take them around. Get to know them. If they are the enemy, then we haven't lost the element of surprise. If they aren't, then we may have gained an ally. Or even a friend. And it's not like we're secret-free. We've had **X-Men **that we've known less about, compared to these girls." 

*****

I apologize for the short chapter, but Christmas is a busy time. Because of that, there will not be any more updates until after Christmas - when I have access to a computer again. Don't let that stop you from reviewing, though. It would make my Christmas merry. **:D **

MERRY CHRISTMAS! 


	7. Chapter 7 Phoning Mother

****

CAIRN

Chapter 7

Disclaimer and Authors Note: Refer to Chapter 1.

Note: **~ ~ **indicates telepathic conversation

*****

Buffy entered their room and flopped on a bed. Willow, who was putting away the last of her things, tossed her cell phone to Buffy.

Buffy sighed. "Guess I should call, huh?"

Willow glanced at the reluctant, reclining Buffy. They had discussed the situation as soon as they were left alone in their room. Buffy had been doing everything she could to delay making this call since then, including calling her mother and going to the washroom. 

The sound of beeping irritated the air as Buffy began dialling. 

"Hi, Giles."

"Buffy! Hello. How was your trip?"

"The trip was fine. Other than severe embarrassment. And being 'ma'am'ed."

Giles frowned. Mamed? Maimed?!! What on earth . . .??

"Honestly now, Giles. Do I look old enough to be a ma'am?"

Oh_. Ma'am_. Oh dear Lord.

"Buffy, do not worry about it. As far as I am concerned, you're still a child."

"Thanks! Wait. HEY!"

"How is your cousin?"

"He's nice. Let's get back to that 'child' comment, mister."

"Here. Give me that. You're procrastinating."

"Will - "

Silence. Giles could feel the look.

"Hi, Giles. Buffy's cousin is one of the people from her dreams. In fact, we've ran into most of the people from her dream."

"What? Are you unharmed?"

"We're great, Giles. But get this, one of them is named Kitty. Guess which one?"

"The cat woman?"

"Giles scores. At first, we were thinking that it might be a situation like with the swim team. But now we're thinking that maybe all the - well - _things_ might be as obvious as that one is, to them."

Willow watched Buffy unpack her bags. She had already finished unpacking hers while Buffy had checked her hair in the washroom. Which they had to share. With a bunch of other people. 

Sharing a small house with an open floor plan and two almost-Honeymooners didn't actually sound as bad as it had at first. Still not good enough to switch, but better than it had. 

"Willow, could you hand me back to Buffy, please?"

Willow couldn't help the small smirk as she handed back the phone to a wincing Buffy. She really shouldn't try to avoid the explosion the way she did. She still eventually had to deal with it and she had the added stress of the wait.

"Hi, Giles!" The forced cheer echoed loudly in the room. "How's patrol been? I bet it's been quiet, huh? Still, you better remember to be caref - "

"Buffy." The quiet interruption caused a small flinch to flicker over Buffy's face. Then, "What were you BLOODY well THINKING, Child?! You went with people who had appeared in your dreams as MONSTERS. People your dreams seemed to be WARNING you about. Buffy! You know better than that. Even small children know better than that. And the close quarters of a vehicle would make for a very difficult place for you to fight without injuring Willow." The voice was even with effort and, every once in a while, Giles' control slipped, resulting in a conversation that could be clearly heard where Willow was standing.

"It was a Rolls Royc -"

"I don't care if it was a bloody limousine with a trampoline in it!" A calming breath rasped through the lines as Giles tried to regain his composure. Willow was starting to worry as she watched the argument. Buffy held the phone slightly away from her ear, the eye on the phone side of her head shut tight as she winced away from the rare sound of Giles in a fury.

"You risked yourself. And, worse, you risked someone else, as well. Why?" Giles was starting to calm down again, but, unfortunately, the thought that Giles believed Buffy had put Willow in danger was sparking Buffy's own anger.

She straightened and her face became an expressionless mask.

"I made an assessment of the situation and acted accordingly." The cold in her voice practically froze the phones. Giles realized that probably shouldn't have put his fears quite the way he had.

Giles opened his mouth to try and make Buffy understand his worries, and his frustration with being left behind when he heard Willow.

"WHOA! Hold it! Back off, guys!"

With relief, Giles listened to a calming murmur from Willow as she talked Buffy down. The last thing they needed was to be at odds. Especially when he was on the other side of the continent. Privately, Giles knew that his reaction to being left out the action was as bad as his Slayer's. The stress got to him every time. He was just a bit better than Buffy at hiding his feelings.

"Giles?"

Nothing to do but face up.

"Buffy. I feel I must apologize. I fear that my anxiety manifested itself in a regrettable display of-"

"Giles! Geeze. I really must have upset you. You've gone all extreme accents on me. Umm. Will was just reading me the riot act - " 

There was the sound of disagreement in the background.

"You were. You just did it politely."

Something everyone could be grateful for. Willow in a temper was quite a sight. Not something he wanted to be in the vicinity of, and he had routine dealings with a super powered teenager and demons.

" - And I sorta got it. But I don't think they want to hurt us. I think we're supposed to help them. And I would **never **put Willow in the kind of risk you're talking about."

* Sigh *

"I am well aware of that, Buffy."

"And I . . . Uh, actually . . . "

There was an uncomfortable silence, both understanding the other and neither wanting to speak. Then, -

"So. We've got here. I embarrassed myself repeatedly. And I think we've both unpacked and stuff. The school is in a mansion, - a REAL mansion, Giles - and it's almost dinner. I don't know if we dress up for dinner, so we better check on that. I guess we'll call you tomorrow."

"Sooner - "

"Sooner if anything happens. Yes, Mother." 

There was fondness in her voice again.

"I have finally managed to contact my friend at the Museum again and have made an appointment for you for Wednesday at ten o'clock. You have the information if you need to reschedule. I believe you'll enjoy your visit with him, Buffy. Tell Willow goodbye from me and to get some rest tonight. Jet lag is not a fun experience to deal with. Goodnight, Buffy."

"Night, Giles. Bye."

Closing the phone, she flopped on the bed.

"That went better than I hoped."

***

"Guys?"

Kitty's voice cut through the low conversation still continuing in the Professors' Study. The tone of her voice caught their attention.

"I was starting to set up surveillance on our two visitors and caught the tail-end of a phone call. Listen."

Replaying the taped conversation, Kitty ignored the cell phone static and concentrated on the voices. She had already heard what they said. This time she was listening to the tone and emotion in their voices. A lot was being said silently here. A very nice English voice and Buffy were stepping around an apology, talking about an appointment, and saying goodbye. The interesting part was in the apology.

Kitty swung in her chair to face the group. "Anybody else find that interesting?"

From the looks on their faces, they did.

_________________________

I sincerely apologize for the lateness of this chapter and for the dismal quality. I think I hit my first writers' block. Either that, or my muse stole my Christmas chocolates (I COULDN'T have ate ALL of them!) and is somewhere gorging herself. Hopefully, this horrid excuse for a chapter will shame her into coming out again, because I really need her help with this part. It is at a transitional stage right now. I have scenes that I know exactly what I want to do, but they're all further on. So, I have to get my story from here to there, somehow. 

Oh, and to partially answer a certain question: I will explain why Charles and Jean can't read their minds. I promise.

Hopefully, I will have more ready next week.


	8. Chapter 8 Touring

****

CAIRN

Chapter 8

Disclaimer and Authors Note: Refer to Chapter 1.

Note: **~ ~ **indicates telepathic conversation

*****

A knock on their door had Willow calling out, "It's open!"

Scott poked his head inside and grinned. 

"I wasn't worried about it being closed. I was worrying about you guys being decent. Last thing I want is to be accused of 'peeping' on my cos." And his grin grew wider.

It was the mischievous look that caused Buffy to raise her eyebrows. 

"Sounds like some personal experience to me. Hmm?"

He laughed. "I spent my teenage years in this school, and so did Jean. But - - Jean was the only girl, and the rest of us weren't too careful about knocking before entering the room." Scott shook his head at a memory. "She almost brained me with a shampoo bottle one time when I was in a hurry for the bathroom." At their laughter, he grinned again. "That was when certain bathrooms were designated 'Women' and 'Men'."

One hand came out and assisted Buffy up off the bed.

"Anyway, I thought I'd give you a short tour of the place before dinner."

"Speaking of that," Willow piped up, "do you dress up for dinner? Because if you do, we gotta change into something - "

"No, no. I mean, some people do. But others come to dinner in cut-off jeans with holes in them. It's just your personal style. And you ladies, " he made an elaborate bow, "are absolute visions that do not need to change anything before gracing us with your presence at dinner."

Willow turned to Buffy, a flush turning her an attractive pink. "I LIKE your cousin, Buffy!" 

Buffy snorted before laughing. 

During Buffy's laughter and Willow's red-faced giggling fit, Scott heard his wife's voice. 

~Piling it on, are you? You must be feeling better.~

~Come on, Red. You heard the phone call. They were worried FOR us. And this Giles was worried about the girls. It didn't sound like the voice of an enemy. I think they're for real. SOMETHING is going on with them, but - ~

Buffy's shaking head drew his attention back to them. Still shaking, Buffy accused him, "You're a flirt, Scott!"

  
"Not normally, no. But I'm feeling good right now. So, " he offered an elbow to each of them, "Shall we?"

Buffy took his arm, raised her chin, and in a fake, snooty voice replied. "Yes. Let's."

As Scott, laughing, began the tour, Jean gently disengaged her conscious mind from her husband's and looked at the Professor, stretching her neck to relieve tension.

"Well, Scott's taking them on a tour of the mansion. And - " Jean allowed herself a small grin (Scott -- _FLIRTING!!_), "He appears to have decided on believing in them." She forced herself to keep a pleasant look on her face . . . until she saw the knowing expression on the Professor's. Then she grimaced. "I can't trust them. I don't like them. I can't tell you why, but - - Before we met, I was the one telling Scott to give them a chance and now that I've met them . . . " She raised her hands and grimaced again.

"I have a similar reaction; however, the rest of the X-Men do not. And I believe that that is the answer."

"Professor?" A disjointed realization crossed her mind that neither she nor the Professor had spoken much during the meeting.

"We are the only telepaths, Jean. Consciously or unconsciously, we depend on our telepathy to give us a 'feel' for the people we met. We base our decisions about them on what we receive; even if we are consciously trying not to invade their privacy, unconsciously our minds still evaluate their mental 'aura', for lack of a better word."

He knitted his hands together, the two forefingers up, and tapped his mouth thoughtfully. 

"There have been times that I have counted my ability as a hindrance. Wished it gone. As I know you have. It takes an incident like this to make us realize how much a part of us our ability is and how lost we would be without it. I find myself reacting adversely to our guests, simply because I find their very lack of **existence** on a mental level very - " He met his ex-student's eyes and half smiled/half grimaced " - **_disturbing_**."

Jean struggled with that for a moment, not wanting to think she was so controlled by her abilities, before admitting to herself that the Professor had hit the nail on the head. The she realized how it tied to her earlier thought.

"That's why you've been trying to keep to the background."

"In this case, I believe we should let our non-telepath friends guide us in regards to our guests. They are more used to evaluating others based solely on actions and body language."

Jean leaned back with a groan and covered her face with her hands.

"I don't like the idea that I'm at the mercy of my abilities, Professor."

She stopped, a look sweeping across her face before she stood and headed for the door.

"Jean?"

"I **refuse** to be that dependent on my gifts, Professor. And the only way not to be is to face it and learn from someone who isn't. I'm going to join Scott on his tour. I know he'll let me see through his eyes for awhile."

As the door closed, Charles smiled.

"Good for you, Jean. Good for you."

The touring quartet entered the dining room at the same time, with Scott answering the latest question.

"No, there's no cook. All the food is made by the students and teachers. We have a schedule made up that lists who has to cook and when. At certain times, it's a basic 'scrounge for your own meal' kinda thing, but dinner always has someone on it. Ah, Logan, " Scott raised his voice as little as he addressed the back of the man in a cowboy hat who was placing silverware on the table, "Who was on Kitchen Duty tonight?"

"That would be me and Kitty, although the brat forgot about it until half an hour ago." He turned and grinned, a wicked twinkle in his eye. "Which means she gets to take care of all the clean up. And washing the dishes. Especially washing the dishes."

Scott groaned at the thought of some of the other 'Kitty & Logan' creations. The two could come up with good meals, but sometimes they got weird and - "Tell me it's not Avocado and Pineapple Surprise. Or that mystery meat that we had last week."

"Nah, I started the meal and the kid didn't have time to toss together anything weird. Don't know how she convinces me to let her make some of those recipes. "

"I do. It's **Kitty**. She can talk people into anything. But especially you. She's got you wrapped around her little finger, buddy. Has for years."

As Scott and Logan bickered and teased back and forth, Buffy unobtrusively stepped to the back of the group and watched the newcomer. All the little hairs were standing up on the back of her neck as the instincts honed by four years of fighting some of the nastiest demons and other warriors on the planet screamed that this was a dangerous man.

Vaguely, she realized Scott was starting to introduce Willow to him and one part of her checked to make sure she was close enough to stop him if he tried to hurt her. Then she stepped forward. Through a haze she could hear Scott introducing her - he really seemed to like the phrase 'My California Cousin' - but her attention was focused on this 'Logan'. 

Logan's attention was caught be the subtle, sleek movement of a predator in the corner of his eye as he was introduced to the suddenly shy little redhead. As Scott's cousin stepped forward, he meet her eyes - and felt his own eyebrows shoot up for a moment. Nothing in Jean's telepathic projection of their meeting at the airport had indicated this. 

This was a warrior. 

And, like any warrior in the presence of another, she was evaluating his threat potential to her or her friend. Well, this was his territory and there was no way he was backing down, but he _had_ mellowed in the years he had spent with the X-Man.

Buffy met the man's gaze head on. Time slowed down as both took the other's measure. 

__

Wolverine protected his territory and pack. 

__

The Slayer stood guard on her friend and humanity. 

And, with a nod to himself, Logan offered his hand. Buffy tilted her head in acknowledgement before, with a small smile, she took his handshake.

Around them, time returned to it's normal flow. Buffy realized as she listened to the conversation continue around her that no one else had noticed their confrontation. With a flicker of her eyes, she thought on what she had learned in the long seconds before they had shook hands.

Not an enemy. Not a friend. Not yet, anyway. 

But possibly an ally.

*******************************************

First off: Yes, I know wolverines are not pack animals, but Wolverine, for all his 'loner' rep, is.

Next: I AM SO SORRY! (Is that enough grovelling?) There was a very bad combination of writer's block, information overload (I tried researching New York), and laziness. I am not making any promises, but I will try to get the next chapter out sooner than this one came. I have got the next one started, at least.

Last: To all those who guessed (jennzabell, Robert, and . . . there were more, but I can't seem to find their names! Sorry!) about the reason why the telepaths can't read the Buffy and Willow's minds, here is your lollipop. **----O **You were right on.


	9. Chapter 9 First Signs

****

CAIRN

Chapter 8

Disclaimer and Authors Note: Refer to Chapter 1.

Note: **~ ~ **indicates telepathic conversation

*****

Two people sat in the darkened study, one holding a crystal glass of brandy and the other a can of beer. The silence was deep, but not uncomfortable.

Charles was the first to break the companionable stillness.

"I noticed that you didn't say much to the others about your meeting with our young guests other than that they were not robots, and you think it's likely that Buffy and Scott **are** related. What do you think of them?"

"That Willow is a quiet one, but I think she could probably live up to the rep red-heads have if you got her riled, Chuck. Little spitfire could grow up to be a right nasty wildcat. The way she zapped at Scott when he started teasing her about her boyfriend and groupies was good."

"I do find it, um, coincidental that her boyfriend is coming to New York to try and talk to people in the recording industry just as they are visiting us."

Logan snorted. "Nothing 'coincidental' about it. If he's actually coming to talk to anyone, I'd be damn stunned. Probably coming to make sure that we don't try anything on his lady. Or back-up to whatever they think is going down."

"It is possible that that he's merely taking advantage of Willow's presence here to be with his girlfriend in a city like New York without parental supervision."

"Umm."

"You don't think so."

"Nope." Logan took another drink of his beer.

Charles raised an eyebrow at Logan, opened his mouth to ask why, before changing the question. "And Buffy?"

"I already asked the kid to look up something on her computers for me. If it fits, I'll show it to everybody at tomorrow's little get together. Can tell you that I looked at her and thought 'The girl's a warrior'. And I ain't talking about a fighter like Jeannie, or Scott, or 'Roro; people who fight because they have to. I'm talking about like me. Someone who has the need to hit and punch and maybe kill built right into their bones. She knew what I was without me saying a thing; the same way that I knew 'bout her. Moved like a predator, and had a challenge for me pretty much screaming from her eyes. And, once it was all settled, she changed. Her body language went back to teenage airhead with not a care in the world. I don't know if I can explain it to you, Chuck, but not many people can change their body language like that."

Logan tilted his head and drained the can. Charles watched him without seeing.

"So, what's bugging you?"

Logan's voice recalled Charles back with a start. 

"I'm sorry. What?"

"You went all 'internal' on me. What're you thinking about that's got you by the b - "

"Logan!"

Charles' shocked indignation drained from him at the amusement on his friend's face. Of all of his many students, this was the only one who had insisted on being treated differently from his other 'children'. It may have had something to do with the fact that Logan, contrary to appearances, was older than Xavier by some years. 

Charles rubbed his eyes as weariness seemed to settle into his bones.

"All that, the information you received on Buffy, was interpreted in only the few moments after you were introduced. Correct?"

"Basically, yup."

"How?" Charles' bewilderment was clear enough for Logan to suddenly understand what was wrong. It was confirmed as Charles continued. "How can you tell that? What are the signs that allow you to see that? Jean is determined not to be dependent on her telepathy and Scott is letting her see them and his reactions to them through his eyes - a tighter bond than they usually share - to teach her. I believed that my studies of humanity had allowed me to understand something of human nature, but I find that I am severely disadvantaged at reading these children. And I don't have the faintest idea of where to begin at rectifying the problem. How can something so - - complex, and complete, as what you are describing be understood in an instant without telepathy?"

"Well, I ain't letting you look through my eyes like that, I can tell you. Beside, it wouldn't help you if you did. What I see - - it's instincts, Chuck. My abilities - hell, everything about me - goes back to my instincts. Including whether I control them, or they control me. Everything I know is filtered through my senses and my instincts. You're a thinking kinda man, Chuck, because your ability IS thought. And you ain't a warrior, to see it either. It's your strength. All the X-Men follow you 'cause of your dream of peace between mutants and mankind. That ain't something that I could have ever come up with, just like you ain't gonna see what I saw in the girl. It's just the way it is. Don't let it get to you."

Logan stood and stretched and Charles thought on his words.

"Well, I'm gonna hit the hay. And if we're gonna have two teenagers running around here tomorrow, you better, too."

As Charles took that advice, he found himself thinking, once again, that, for all that Logan claimed to be a simple man, he was remarkably complex.

*************

Not far away, the fabric of reality rippled in the smallest of ways before settling down to it's new pattern.

Ororo and Willow shuddered in their sleep. Kitty, ensconced in front of her computers, glanced around uneasily and pulled on her cardigan. Buffy, still awake, fought the urge to check her weapons.

*************

Buffy was NOT happy. No nightmares should equal sleep. Lots of nice, comfy sleep. It should not equal lying awake feeling like thousands of insects were crawling all over her.

Buffy's eyes snapped open as her frustration reached its limit. Silently she dressed, listening closely to Willow's even breathing. Upon reaching the door, she stopped and returned to the dresser to grab a few things. Stopping at the bathroom long enough to brush her teeth and put her hair in a pony tail, she then returned her bag of toiletries to outside their room and took off.

She began some quick stretches once she reached the outdoors. With her eyes closed as she bent and moved in the odd before dawn light, she realized she could still feel - - something.

Stupid Slayer sense, was her resigned thought as she straightened. She stood, eyes closed and body relaxed, as she reached with that peculiar part of her that made her uncomfortable. The fact that she was stronger, faster, and just physically different than other humans was something that she secretly enjoyed. The fact that she was also mentally different was not something she liked to think about.

As the light breeze passed her, she FELT the direction the wrongness was coming from. Opening her eyes, she started off at a light jog in that direction.

Vaguely, she noticed that some of the trees and other green stuff were different from what she was used to; although, she didn't really know what made them different and didn't really care as long as the branches still worked for dusting vamps. She was a city girl, born and bred, and liked malls better than trees any day. Plus, the creepy feeling was making it difficult to concentrate on anything but it.

Suddenly, the creepiness factor flared and goose bumps broke out all over her body. She kept running until it eased. It didn't take long.

Stopping, she turned and headed back, her head down as she watched the ground. Once she located the center of the nastiness, she started kicking the leaves and moss-like ground covering. The first small piece of moss came up like a reverse of those rolled-up pieces of grass people lay down on new lawns. A half glance of regret at her nails was all she allowed before she began using her fingers to get under the dirty, green stuff and pull up large chunks. It peeled up in a way that Buffy didn't think was likely natural. Slowly, what was underneath was revealed.

The flat white rock was carved with symbols that appeared to shimmer like a heat haze before Buffy's eyes. They seemed to crawl and twist out of the corners of her eyes, but the runes stayed as solid and firm as, well, the rock they were carved out of when she stared at them hard. It was when she unfocused her eyes that they seemed to move; so much so that the moss's roots that still clung to them gave the impression that they were wiggling, like worms on the sidewalk. (_Or maggots on a corpse_, the gross part of her mind whispered.) She didn't know who had carved them or how long they had been there. She wasn't even certain if it really was rock, because there was one thing she did know, with every fibre of _Knowing_ in the part of her that she disliked.

It was growing.

*********************

A few comments:

Thanks to everyone who reviews: I really appreciate it. Plus, whilst I did manage to get this chapter out quickly, please remember I had part of it written already. But, hopefully, my dry spell is over. 

To King Henry the V, Well you SHOULD laugh when I said I was trying to do research on New York (Info overload on a GRAND scale). I tried, gave up, tried again, gave up, tried once more, and just decided that I wouldn't show much of what happens in New York. I didn't want to anyway. Really. 

To gidgetgirl, thank you for the well-thought out comments. I don't know if I'll do any better with Buffy and crew's characterizations, but I am trying. I am glad you like my Oz. Now if I can just keep him like that . . .


	10. Chapter 10 Photos, Calls And Morning Rou...

CAIRN

Chapter 10

Disclaimer and Authors Note: Refer to Chapter 1.

Note: indicates telepathic conversation

It was growing.

Buffy brushed her hands together absently, smearing the still-moist dirt, then reached into her pack and pulled out the digital camera. Quickly, she turned on the camera and began taking pictures. When she finished, she pulled out the cell phone and dialed Giles.

"Wah - ?"

There were some strange garbled noises and Buffy remembered the time change. New York was three hours ahead so that would make the time . . . Oh. Ouch.

"Giles. Wake up."

"Mmmmph. Wait. Buffy? What happened?" He was sounding more awake by the second.

"I've found something."

"Already? Are you sure?"

The silence on her end seemed to finish waking him up.

"Of course you're sure. Why else would you be ringing at this time of the night."

"It's some kind of rock. It was under a bunch of moss and it is throwing out some nasty vibes. There are carvings on it, like what was on that thing in my vision. The monument thing."

"The cairn?"

"Yeah, that thing. Right now this rock - or whatever - is still fairly small, but I think it's growing. In fact, I'm sure it's growing. And it feels - Giles, it feels almost like when the Hellmouth is opening. And why is this happening on my summer vacation? Nothing happens in the summer. Summer is supposed to be my time off. You know, go to beach, work on my tan - "

"Growing. Growing how?" There was a thoughtful tone in Giles' voice as he interrupted; a 'it's on the tip of my brain' sorta voice.

"I don't -" She cut herself off as flashes of her dream came to her, along with a certainty that this was right. "It was growing up. Like that Karny thing in my dream. When it's finished, it's going to be like that. And we don't want it to finish what it's doing, Giles. Not if I get vibes like this from it now."

"No. No, you're right. Not like it is, but - Buffy, I think I remember something about this from one of my books. This is important, Buffy. Damage it somehow, but DO NOT destroy it. Smash some of the glyphs; slow down the growth, but don't demolish it. I - I think to completely destroy the portal that you feel forming, we are going to have to let it grow a little."

"That doesn't make sense, Giles."

"I know. Just let me consult my books for a bit. I have a hunch that I read something about this during my research in the last week, but I can't quite remember where. It would be much easier if I were able to see the carvings."

"That's easy enough. I took some pictures on Willow's digital camera. As soon as I get back to our room, we'll e-mail them to you."

"Yes. That would be very helpful. Providing I can get the infernal thing to work properly."

With a small laugh, already knowing that she had lost Giles' attention, she said goodbye and put away the phone. Not really wanting to stick around the creepy thing more than necessary, she grabbed a small sturdy-looking rock from nearby and began smashing some of the runes. They crumbled away fairly easily.

Must be because it's still growing and hasn't 'set' yet. It has to stay soft enough to move into its next shapes. She didn't question how she knew that it would be a lot harder when it was done.

On the way back to the mansion, she noticed, with a grimace and a nod to Giles, that the intensity of the nastiness had diminished. She could probably even sleep, which really sucked, because now everybody else would be starting to get up.

She exited the forest silently, only to be met with a unexpected sight that twisted her insides.

Jean stretched just a little further in her stride, enjoying the feel of running in the still-cool early morning air. As she came around the path to the back of the mansion, she saw Buffy in jogging clothes. For a moment, she was simply shocked that the young woman was a jogger; she didn't seem the type. Then she noticed that the blonde was just standing there with a look of pain creeping out from her eyes. She had wrapped her arms around herself and one small part of Jean cheered that she was able to read this body language so easily. The rest of her just ached for Buffy.

Turning her head toward the house, she spotted Logan in the middle of his morning Tai-Chi routine. Confused, she started to glance back at Buffy, to make sure they were looking at the same thing when Logan turned his head so smoothly that it appeared that the movement was part of the routine and stared at Buffy. Freezing in position, he tilted his head challengingly and Jean had just a moment to wonder 'What the heck. . .?' before Buffy's eyes widened, then narrowed, her chin shooting up as she marched forward, pulling off her small pack. Once she reached him, she dumped her things in a pile on one of the chairs, toed off her shoes and socks before matching Logan's position, chin still firmly tilted.

Logan began moving and Buffy matched him, unsteady at first, but within a minute flowing from one move to the other with an ease that astonished Jean. If she had thought that Buffy didn't seem the type to be a jogger, then this possibility hadn't even been on the chart. As a California girl, she might have fooled around with the moving meditation of Tai Chi; but to match Logan so perfectly indicated much more than any words could have.

Logan was a master.

A master with decades of practice in this ancient art. For such a young, seemingly frivolous woman to match Logan gave Jean chills on a primal level despite the incredible beauty of it.

Who WAS this girl?!


	11. Chapter 11 All Before Breakfast

CAIRN

Chapter 11

Disclaimer and Authors Note: Refer to Chapter 1.

Note: > > indicates telepathic conversation

- - - - - - - - -

"Not bad. For a kid."

The praise, faint as it was, was still more than Jean usually heard Logan give out. Strangely, despite the calming motions of Tai Chi, there seem to still be a great deal of tension in the air.

Buffy looked back at Logan.

"Do you really think I'm a kid?" It was said calmly, and Jean knew, without a wisp of a doubt, that there was a lot more going on in this conversation than she was picking up. It frustrated her. Buffy maintained eye contact with Logan for a moment before he tilted his head back at her.

As she continued gathering her things, he casually and very not-subtly asked the question Jean wanted to know, "So. Where did you learn the Tai Chi?"

"My ex."

The tone was abrupt and very obviously end-of-conversation. Logan nodded his acceptance of the limit and stood, quiet and sharp-eyed, watching as Buffy headed inside.

Then he turned to look at Jean, letting her know that he knew she had been watching, before he settled his hat on a little firmer and headed back indoors himself.

Jean's stomach gurgled uncomfortably. She would far rather deal with straight-out, fight-to-the-death madmen than these kinds of sideways problems.

------

Willow snuggled down deeper into her pillow. THAT was better. For a while, she been in the worst dream. Now, no more frogs jumping out of the ground at her. All gone.

And just as sleep was dragging her deeper, Buffy dropped her pack at Willow's feet and sat beside her hands.

The slight jerk of fear at someone strange in her room while she was asleep and healthy Hellmouth paranoia woke her instantly.

"Buffy?" A glance at the clock told her it was only 6:00 in the morning.

"What're you doing up this early, Buffy?"

One part of her noticed the exercise clothes and camera; enough so that when Buffy replied that she hadn't actually gone to sleep yet, she finished waking up completely.

Buffy seemed odd - her breathing calm, her body centered and her eyes a little upset - all at the same time.

"I need to get these - " She raised the camera, "to Giles. And I've kinda forgotten how. I'll explain what's happened while you do that."

What's happened_? But . . . Didn't we just go to sleep? Arg!_

------

Scott was the last to arrive, shuffling in with - Jean knew - his eyes half closed. And his shirt buttoned wrong. Muffling a snort, she grabbed his hand, pulling him towards a chair as she telekinetically undid and redid the buttons correctly.

"Now that everybody is here - Kitty, why don't you let us know what you've discovered."

"Thanks, Professor. Um, well, Logan asked me to look into something last night and I don't know how he knew," she looked at Logan in his corner questioningly and he quirked a corner of his mouth back at her, "and since he's not going to tell us just yet," Frustration was evident in her voice. Kitty's curiosity didn't like unanswered questions. Jean always found it amusing that sometimes Kitty could be just like her namesake. "I'll explain what I found out."

Swinging her chair around she brought up one of her graphs. "Here is the last fifty years of known deaths, murders, etc in Sunnydale on a percentage scale. I had to do a lot of digging to get some of the older stats. They were really well-hidden, and the more I look at them, the more I think that Sunnydale Police higher-ups have to be in on it somehow. Anyway, that's the last fifty years. This," Kitty switched to another graph, " is the last 10 years. It shows things better. Bet you can't guess what _this_," She jabs at a spot on the graph, "corresponds to." The humor in her voice had even Scott wide awake now.

She watched her audience as realization dawned on them.

"Is that . . . ?"

Kitty grinned at Scott.

"It appears that your cousin has made a big difference in the town. Almost to the day that she arrived, the murders and missing people started to go down. _Dramatically_. So, on a whim, I looked up the area of Los Angeles that she lived in before she moved to Sunnydale. It was pretty normal - for that area of L.A. - until a couple of months before she got kicked out of her school."

She brought up another graph and began pointing to places on it as she explained.

"At that point, murders in the area began to increase, almost doubling every few nights or so. They ended the night Buffy _allegedly_ burned down the gym. After that, it was back to business as usual."

She turned back to her audience.

"As well, I did a search through something I should have thought of right away. The school newspaper, the school yearbook and their websites. On Awards Night, it lists Buffy as having received a trophy called 'Class Protector'. This was the first year it was given."

"Class Protector?"

"Uh-huh. In fact, it says on the yearbook's website that people wrote in to suggest the award for her. And, creepily enough, the thing they seem to be most proud of is that their class had the highest percentage of people to survive to graduation. What kind of school did she _go _to, anyway? Not one I want to go to, that's for sure. The school paper had an Obit column. The high school newspaper had an OBITUARY column. I think I have a better chance of surviving here at Mutant U. At least here, we usually only have problems with, you know, other mutants, those stupid Friends of Humanity, aliens, and government robots trying to kill us."

"Kitten. Who do you think they have to deal with?"

Kitty took a deep breath.

"Well. Um. I went back and looked at the police reports and the newspaper reports and, um, sometimes there was this sorta common denominator that -"

"Kid. Just spit it out. Our lives? Unusual enough. They can handle it."

Kitty made a face at Logan.

"Yeah? The last time I suggested anything like this you guys laughed at me. Of course, that was before you discovered that I was right." She looked at Logan again, realization dawning. "You already knew, didn't you? How do you -?"

"Just spit it out, pum'kin. I'll help if you have trouble."

Kitty made a face and growled at him lightly. She really didn't like being kept in the dark.

"Okay, for the one group I put together, there's a whole buncha reason listed, but, basically, it comes down to blood loss by way of two little holes in the neck."

"Vampires!" The horrified exclamation came from Ororo. Jean found herself reaching over mentally and brushed a small wordless wave of _> comfort, safe now > _against the walls in Ororo's mind. A shaky > _gratitude, acknowledgement, safe here > _of emotion whispered back at her after a moment. Ororo's experience with vampires had been years in the past and had left her with nightmares and self-doubt. A very painful memory for all the X-Men. Kitty was right. None of them had believed her when she had suggested a vampire had bitten Ororo all those years ago. Not until the vampire came back for her.

Jean could feel Scott shudder. Mystical things were not on his favorite list, either. They never seemed to follow the laws of physics. He _liked_ the laws of physics.

"Vampires. And, probably, other things that go bump in the night. The hospitals - - Get this, guys - - the hospitals list 'injury through barbeque fork' on the charts of survivors of the vampire attacks. And then there's the other injuries and, MAN, some of them are weird. How do they expect people to believe this! They're even less realistic than barbeque forks and gas main explosions. Slimey goo and cuts are 'an explosion of jam jars'. Yuck! And 'gangs on PCP's' show up everywhere in reports. But there's no traditional signs of any actual gangs. And people go along with the stories, after the first few hours, anyway. Going completely, totally, milky-eyed blind in minutes is 'bad contact fluid'. The girl didn't _wear glasses_. Or _contacts_. And the complete recovery a day later was 'expected, only a matter of time, really.' Having your hands catch on fire, in front of a whole bunch of people, is 'booby-trapped pom-poms'." Kitty's face twisted in disgust as she read down her list. "These people are _sick_! Really! Oh! I didn't remember this one. A mouthless girl --"

"Stop! Kitty. Just. Stop. Okay? I think we get the picture."

------

"It's _growing_! You don't mean - like tentacles or anything, do you? Because I hate tentacles. And then they're all suckery and grabby - and they don't care where they grab you, either. But, no. It wouldn't be suckery if it was stone. Unless it's a portal to something suckery. When the Hellmouth opened, there were tentacles, then. And the face. Do you think there's gonna be something like the face again?" A beep interrupted Willow's worryalog and she brightened after checking her computer. "Okay, Giles received the photos and they all came out intact."

------

"So. Demons, huh?"

"Oh, don't get her started AGAIN." To their disgust, Kitty hadn't stopped at her verbal examples. She had had pictures. And she wanted them to know this time that there was no way she was just an over-imaginative kid to be patted on the head, so they had been very comprehensive, disgusting pictures. And had included autopsy photos. Very disturbing.

"Yep. What I wanna know is how Logan knew about it. Knew enough about it to put me on the right track."

As a group, they turned and looked at the silent man who had leaned back in his chair with his hat tipped forward over his face as if he had been napping for the last little while. With the weight of their eyes on him, he resettled the hat to it's proper place and eyed a very curious Kitty.

"Lotsa reasons. But she had the smell of dead vampires on her. That was kinda a giveaway."

"Logan? I'm fairly certain she's showered. . . "

Logan snorted and then sighed, knowing Kitty wouldn't give up.

"That wouldn't matter. I'd probably still be able to smell them on her a week from now. Look, if you eat something with a strong scent, you know that scent comes out as part of the body's sweat, etcetera, right? Enough that even normal people can sometimes smell it."

"Yeah, but I doubt that she ATE the vampires."

He snorted a laugh again.

"Vampires turn to dust, Pum'kin. Dust floats in the air. If you're fighting, you're usually breathing fairly hard. And since you breathe air, you're breathing in - "

"EWWW! Gross!"

------

"So, what do we do now?"

"Me?" Buffy's shoes hit the floor. "I'm going back to bed. The feel of that yucky Karny was bugging me all night. Literally. Like bugs all over. I've had NO sleep. Tell everybody that I'm jet-lagged, that I had trouble sleeping in a strange bed, whatever. I just need an hour or two." With that, she collapsed backward, wiggled the covers around her and was out before Willow could say anything else.

**Bugs** all over? Maybe that's a bit like the** frogs** all over me. And they came out of the ground! Am I - am I getting that sensitive to the magic, now?

An amazed Willow found herself wondering if she had really made that major breakthrough or if it was all just a coincidence.

This was way too much stress this early in the morning.

------

"Demon hunter? She's only eighteen, Logan!" Scott had the look of someone who knows something is probably true, but is fighting it.

"Plus," Jean added, "this would have started when she was fifteen, not eighteen."

"Folks who're demon hunters get called to the job at all ages. Lot of 'em are young - not usually this young, but still young; although most don't last too long. And you better include the little fire tree as well, because she's got the smell on her, too. Not as strong but it's there."

"I'm only eighteen, Scott. And I started in the business when I was thirteen. Granted, it wasn't usually DEMONS, but -- "

"Goddess help them. Demons. Vampires. For at least three years, possibly four. The horrors they have likely seen, _experienced _- !" Ororo was shaking her head, sight focused inward on some horrible vision.

"Could it have really been that many? I mean, why would they all congregate at a little city like Sunnydale, when there's L.A. not too far away? Why California, of all places, anyway? Why not someplace with a little less sun?"

"Not as many people; not as much food; easier to get lost in a crowd. And some places just draw them. Never been able to figure out why."

Xavier looked at his children and listened to the babble, giving them the chance to reflect, question, and discuss this new information, as they needed to do before being able to accept it. He had needed the time to change his worldview to include the bouncy young women he had met the day before as demon hunters. _And, of course, _he thought, _it would be _Scott_'s relative that would be involved in such a profession. _

> X-Men. _Please. I believe that Kitty has still more to tell us_. >

------

Bubbles are nice.

Willow giggled as she blew some of the bubbles off her hand. With Buffy needing sleep so badly, she had decided to leave for a shower. And when she had gotten here - Well, a bath could take a bit more time than a shower. She hoped nobody minded that she took some the bubble bath, but she had really felt the need to relax and stop worrying about if she had actually felt the magic of the portal or not. It was just too EARLY. And nothing worked better at relaxing her than a hot bubble bath. Except, she considered, reddening, Oz in a hot bubble bath. She giggled.

Oz and bubbles. _Ummm._

Steam rose as she settled back to soak and daydream.

------

"Okay, does anyone know what she's doing? Is she sniffing the wind, like Logan or Rahne do when they catch a scent of something? Doesn't quite look like that, but . . . And now she's off. With a destination in mind, by the looks of it."

"Just watch, Scott."

Fascinated, the group watched the recording of Buffy's early morning activities, leaning forward in confusion as she started tracing back carefully over her steps. Scott cursed suddenly.

"That's where the N'Gari dimensional portal was. How does she know that? And what the hell is she doing to the grass?"

As the grass peeled up, the white rock underneath it became visible. There were some shocked gasps and one low, vicious masculine curse at the runic rock revealed. A low, rumbling growl came from Logan.

"We have got to destroy that NOW. Before the N'Gari have a chance of using it."

"Just wait, Scott. Watch."

Despite having seen this before, Kitty still watched it as closely as the rest, a finger ready to pause the tape in an instant. But, she thought, just for a moment. She didn't want to lose the feel of it. Or the shock value. She smirked.

Logan concentrated, intent on the taped scene as the young suspected demon hunter knelt, examined the ground and then pulled out a digital camera and began taking pictures. When finished, she fished a cell phone out of her rather completely equipped little fanny pack and dialed.

"Wah - ?"

"Giles. Wake up."

"Mmmmph. Wait. Buffy? What happened?"

The group listening recognized the man's voice from the previous, half-monitored call.

"I've found something."

"Already? Are you sure?"

# weighted silence #

"Of course you're sure. Why else would you be ringing at this time of the night."

"It's some kind of rock. It was under a bunch of moss and it is throwing out some nasty vibes. There are carvings on it, like what was on that thing in my vision. The monument thing."

"Vision? Is that her power? Visions." Scott made a little face at that. "Wouldn't have thought of visions as a Summers' ability. We've always been more 'focused energy-beams'."

"Visions would be of great asset to someone of her profession. And they might not be considered unusual enough in the supernatural world to identify her as mutant. Except, perhaps, by she herself."

"The cairn?"

"Yeah, that thing. Right now this rock - or whatever - is still fairly small, but I think it's growing. In fact, I'm sure it's growing. And it feels - Giles, it feels almost like when the Hellmouth -"

"Hellmouth! What in the hell is a Hellmouth!" Although voiced by Logan, the mutter was the general feeling of all of them.

"- is opening. And why is this happening on my summer vacation? Nothing happens in the summer. Summer is supposed to be my time off. You know, go to beach, work on my tan - "

"Growing. Growing how?"

"I don't . . . It was growing up. Like that Karny thing in my dream. When it's finished, it's going to be like that. And we don't want it to finish what it's doing, Giles. Not if I get vibes like this from it now."

"Again with the 'vibes'. Okay, visions I get. But - _vibes_? What the - ?"

"Perhaps her mental abilities allow her to access the energy created by the supernatural. There is very little we know about the supernatural. However, the energy transference from Illyana to Kitty, when she transferred her soul-sword - "

"You mean, when Illyana died." The quiet words came from a no-longer smirking Kitty.

"Yes, Kitty. When Illyana died. We did record the transference of energy from her to you, so we do know that magic and the like can take an recordable energy form. Not measurable, yet, but it is - "

"Or," Logan interrupted Xavier, eyes still on the paused screen, "It could just be that she's got the instincts. Years of experience in the field, they give you a feel for what off and what's not. Supernatural agents, government agents. To survive, you gotta have the feel for it. Let's just wait 'fore we jump to any conclusions."

"No. No, you're right. Not like it is, but - Buffy, I think I remember something about this from one of my books. This is important, Buffy. Damage it somehow, but DO NOT destroy it."

"What?"

"Is he insane?"

"I do not believe that to be wise. It must be destroyed before they have a chance to come through again."

"Smash some of the glyphs; slow down the growth, but don't demolish it. I - I think to completely destroy the portal that you feel forming, we are going to have to let it grow a little."

"That doesn't make sense, Giles."

"I agree with you, kid."

"But we've never managed to completely destroy the cairn. It does keep 'growing' back."

"I know. Just let me consult my books for a bit. I have a hunch that I read something about this during my research in the last week, but I can't quite remember where. It would be much easier if I were able to see the carvings."

"That's easy enough. I took some pictures on Willow's digital camera. As soon as I get back to our room, we'll e-mail them to you."

"Yes. That would be very helpful. Providing I can get the infernal thing to work properly."

# laughter #

"Bye, Giles."

"Hmm. Oh, yes, yes. Goodbye, Buffy. And please, be careful."

"Well. That was illuminating."

------

Willow brushed her hair, watching the highlights glint in the early morning sunlight. _It was funny_, she thought absently, _that Oz has never done his hair in that platinum blond Spike favored. He's done it in just about every other color. And he looks good in any color that he picks._

Sighing, she remembered when she'd mentioned once that she was thinking of livening up her hair color with some different color for a bit of a change. One of the groupies had made a comment about how 'some people' were so plain-looking along with a pointed look at her and - well -

Oz had made sure she knew he'd love her no matter what her hair color was before he mentioned how incredible he thought her hair was. And then had kissed her hair and . . . sigh He was so sweet and always made her feel so special.

She missed him.

------

"She knows Tai Chi. She - she's pretty good at it, too."

There was a snort from Logan.

All of them had to silently agree that **that **had been one of Scot's better understatements.

Charles was again having to add to his earlier mental adjustments. This one was even harder. A teenager - former cheerleader and all-around exuberant California girl - who was a demon hunter was one thing; a difficult thing but manageable. The selfsame teenager being able to match Logan in a six thousand year old martial art to promote meditative oneness between body and spirit was so far beyond the realm of consideration that he was having quite a bit more difficulty dealing with this new bit of information. But proof continued to flicker on the screen.

Charles hadn't had hair on the back of his neck for a very long time. That didn't stop them from trying to stand on end as the primitive instinct-driven part of his brain started sending out unheard whimpers of fear. The more advanced part of his brain was amused that the sight of a teenager flowing from one gentle movement into the next could cause more of a case of the 'heebie-jeebies' in this jaded group than the same teenager apparently tracking an inter-dimensional portal by 'vibes' and talking about visions.

Welcome distraction came in the form of a leaked mental _itch_ of curiosity.

"I wonder just who her ex is? That he could teach her like that?" Kitty's eyebrows scrunched consideratingly as she muttered into the stillness of their viewing.

Slow, precise movement continued on the screen.

-----------

1. Okay, a **_huge_** apology to everyone for the length of time it took to get this out. I tried participating in NANOWRIMO (writing a small book in the month of November) and as soon as I had a set amount I had to write every day, I - well, I don't know what exactly happened. It was horrible. Nothing came out; I couldn't even write out a creative grocery list. I do know now that I must never, ever try to do _that _again. It completely killed all creativity for months. Dead creativity equals very frustrated author.

2. And an **_enormous_** thank you to everyone who wrote in and encouraged me. You wouldn't believe how much it pushed me to try and work. A special thank you to Aiffe for the long e-mail offering 'New York' assistance. Although I think I scared her off with all my questions. Either that or my e-mail was sorted to her Junk Mail automatically. It was very cool (and strange) to see favorable reviews from some of the people **I** read. Thank you.

3. Next chapter should bring the last of the cannon characters that will be in this fanfic. Except for the N'Gari, of course. And these two are ones I've been delaying introducing because I find their accents so hard to write. Wish me luck!

4. Almost forgot! 'THANK YOU' to Sylvia S for the proofreading and editing. This chapter really needed that help!

5. PS. Does anyone know why fanfiction dot net took out all my stars and left arrows and wiggly lines? And duplicated part of a page below the orginal part in several places? And changed some of the formating? I did everything the same as I used to. It allows number signs but took out my stars.An arrow going one way is allowed but the one going the other way. Very strange. I hope I caught everything.


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